


If

by WildWolf25



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, M/M, Racism, Shiro and Hunk come in at the end too, They deal with some very shitty people, Trans Character, Trans Keith (Voltron), Transphobia, deals with some heavy shit, good thing they have each other, it's happy in the end tho I promise, mentions of abuse, more along the lines of willful neglect not like outright hitting tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-11-21 01:28:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11347110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildWolf25/pseuds/WildWolf25
Summary: If you can fill the unforgiving minuteWith sixty seconds' worth of distance run,Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it, (“If” by Rudyard Kipling)(How Keith and Lance met and what their lives were like before Twelve Nights)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sort of a sidestory/prequel to Twelve Nights, but the overall mood is like… DRASTICALLY different. Beep beep, pulling into Angstville station. But you know it turns out okay in the end because Twelve Nights is happy.
> 
> I wrote this before it was revealed that Keith’s dad A) existed, and B) was southern. So in this, Keith is from Anytown USA; midwest-ish, because snow, but the location isn’t really that important. It’s just a small town that isn’t very… tolerant, about differences.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you can keep your head when all about you  
> Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,  
> If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,  
> But make allowance for their doubting too;  
> If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,  
> Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,  
> Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,  
> And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise...

Keith hated Lance the moment he dropped into his life.

“Hey,” the new kid gave him a flirty smile as he plopped down into the empty seat in front of Keith in geography.  “Name’s Lance, I’m new in town.  I lost my number, can I have yours?”  He punctuated his words with a wink.  

Keith glared at him.  “Bite me.”  

“Wow, you sure move fast,” Lance teased.  “I mean, I was hoping to at least take you on a date first.”  

Keith bristled, hating this guy more every second.  “Shut up.  Just don’t talk to me.”  This new kid had to learn some way or another that no one talked to ‘that weird Kogane kid’.  Better to save him the trouble of finding out some other way, or risk being socially isolated.

Lance opened his mouth to say something else, but the sound of the school bell ringing over the sound system cut him off, as did the teacher’s voice as she called for the students’ attention.  She announced that they had a new student joining them, and Lance stood up and introduced himself.  He had just moved from Florida (instantly sparking murmured wonders at  _ why  _ he would leave Florida to come to their tiny, middle-of-nowhere town) and that he was excited to make new friends and see snow for the first time.  Keith could have gagged; excited to make friends… what, was this guy in kindergarten?  What high schooler talked like that?  

Keith barely paid attention the rest of class.  He didn’t want to spend the class period thinking about this new kid, but he couldn’t get Lance’s words out of his head.  Who just walked up to someone and  _ flirted  _ like that?  The fact that he had been flirting and had mentioned a date made Keith feel sick to his stomach.  He knew Lance had only flirted with him because he saw him as a girl, just like everyone else.  And pretty soon, he would learn to treat him the way everyone else did, and would never again even imagine flirting.  No, his classmates would quickly let Lance know that no one talked to the weird Kogane freak.  It wouldn’t be long before Lance joined everyone else’s side.  

Hendrick County Public High School was small; there were less than a hundred students in Keith’s sophomore class, and just over three hundred students in the whole school.  And nearly every single one of them hated Keith.  The ones that didn’t actively hate him -- call him names and slurs, beat him up when the teachers weren’t looking, block him whenever he tried to go to the restroom -- still called him by his birth name and feminine pronouns, which hurt just as much as any punch to the gut, if only in a different way.  Even the ones who just ignored him still turned a blind eye to everything the other students did, which he thought was just as bad.  Not even the teachers would help him; he had once seen a teacher walk by when some students were harassing him without even batting an eye.  The first time he had gotten beaten up in the bathroom and had told a teacher about it, the teacher had just scolded him for trying to go in the boys restroom and ignored anything about getting beaten up.  

Keith had realized pretty early on that the only way to survive was just be silent.  When the teacher asks at the beginning of the year if anyone has a nickname they would rather go by during roll call, do not raise your hand and ask to be called by a male name.  Do not ask people to use he/him pronouns.  Do not try to talk to friends about how you feel about yourself and your gender.  Do not retaliate when people taunt, harass, spit at, throw pencils or parts of their lunch or even punches at you.  He had the hardest time with that last one, which had led to many visits to the principal’s office and notes about “disciplinary issues” in his file.  Being silent was the only way to survive, and unfortunately, he wasn’t very good at it.  

Things weren’t as bad as they used to be, back when he had first tried to come out a couple of years ago.  Time and experience had hardened his heart, even if it couldn’t make it impenetrable.  The pain he had felt when all of his friends had turned away from him in disgust was something he never wanted to go through a second time, so he didn’t let anyone get close to him again (an easy task, when no one would even speak to him, but it wasn’t quite as easy mentally).  Likewise, the hours and hours of lectures from his grandparents, about how he was going to go to Hell if he kept this up, or how he was sick in the head and maybe they should send him away to cure him somewhere, or how none of this would have happened if he had parents to raise him -- but of course that was his fault too, since his mother had died in childbirth and his father couldn’t be depended on since he had run off on his mother before he was born -- none of that was something he wanted to keep going through.  He was tired of fighting battles every day, so he told them it was just a phase, he was done with it, it was a mistake.  He wrote ‘Karen’ on his papers and refused to drink water during the day so he wouldn’t have to use the bathroom at school.  He used ‘Keith’ and masculine pronouns only in the safety of his head.  He didn’t talk to anyone, and they didn’t talk to him, save for the times some of the guys at school got bored and decided to try to goad him into a fight by taunting him, calling him nasty words that made his blood boil with rage.  He was a bit ashamed to admit that it usually worked; he had a quick temper and could only hold himself back for so long.    

Keith jumped slightly as the sound of the bell ringing startled him.  He had been so absorbed in his thoughts that he hadn’t even noticed the class had ended.  He shoved his notebook into his backpack and was zipping it up when Lance spun around in his seat.

“Hey, can you show me where the cafeteria is?”  He asked, smiling.  Keith stared at him; what was this guy’s problem?  Could he not take a hint?

He scowled.  “Ask someone else.”  He shouldered his backpack and turned away.

“Hey, what’s your deal?”  Lance asked, frustrated.  

Keith looked back at him.  “Ask someone else.”  He repeated, then left without another word.

~~~~~

Keith dropped his books and backpack off at his locker, grabbed his lunch, and was just trying to get to the lunchroom when he found himself being shoved roughly into a wall of lockers.  

“Watch where you’re going, bitch.”  The guy snarled, pushing him again.  

“I didn’t even touch you.”  Keith growled.  

“Yeah, and don’t even think about it.”  The kid sneered.  “I don’t want to catch whatever it is that’s making you sick in the head.”  

Keith glared at him, oh so tempted to bite out a sharp retort, but he knew if he landed himself in the principal’s office another time this month he might get suspended, again.  He turned away.

“Hey, look at me when I’m talking to you, bitch.”  The guy shoved the flat of his hand against the space between Keith’s shoulder blades, the force of the hit making him stumble.  He whirled around, teeth bared, but a lanky figure stepped between the two of them.

“Wow, I wasn’t aware that this school was chill with bullying.”  Lance said icily.  “Then again, I’m pretty sure assault and battery is illegal even in schools.”  

“Look, new kid, clearly you don’t know how things work around here.”  The guy told him.

“Nah, but luckily I have a pretty good understanding of how federal law works.”  Lance replied.

The guy’s face twisted into a sneer.  “There’s no law about giving fags like her everything they have coming to ‘em.”  

“Oh so we’re talking hate crimes now,” Lance said.  “In that case, there are several laws.  Might want to study up on that.  Seems like something you should know, since it looks like you have the tendency to break them.”

“You know what, I don’t need to waste my time on someone who uses big words to hide what a wimp they are.”  The guy snarled and turned away.  

“Cool, I don’t need to waste my time on someone who thinks it’s fun to knock people around.”  Lance shrugged and turned back to Keith with a smile.  “Hi again.”  

“Congrats, you just committed social suicide.”  Keith told him flatly.  He picked up his lunch bag and left, slipping through the crowd before Lance could follow him. 

He made his way to the cafeteria, resisting the urge to rub the bruise he could feel forming on his shoulder.   _ Don’t let them see that they hurt you _ … he told himself.  He took his usual seat at the end of an empty table in the corner of the cafeteria.  From all the way over here, he couldn’t see the table he used to sit at, with the friends he used to eat with.  He had showed up to lunch one day and found that there “wasn’t room” for him.  He had a feeling it wasn’t a coincidence that it had only been the day before that he had confided in a close friend that he thought he might be transgender.  All that soul-searching, all that research he did on the internet, it all felt like a huge mistake when it had only resulted in so much hate.  It wasn’t that he regretted being this way, he just wished he had kept quiet about it, at least until he could get out of this town.  

He opened his lunch bag and took out his sandwich.  It was the only thing in it; he made his lunch himself, and he usually didn’t have time to do much more than slap a thin layer of peanut butter and enough jelly to make it go down easily on a couple pieces of bread and throw it in his bag.  He didn’t even bring a water bottle with him, since he couldn’t drink anything during the day and risk needing to go to the bathroom at school.  It was too dangerous.

Startled, Keith jumped a little when someone dropped into the seat across the table from him.  Lance set his lunch box down and opened it up.  “Sup?”  

Keith stared at him, not knowing what to think.  “What is your  _ problem _ ?”  

“What’s yours?”  Lance cocked an eyebrow at him.

Keith scowled.  “Ask anyone in this school and they’ll tell you.”  

“Huh, anyone?”  Lance made a show of looking around the lunch room.

Keith snorted.  “Yeah.  Anyone.”  

“Cool, then, I’m asking you.”  Lance fixed his gaze on Keith again.  

“ _ Besides  _ me.”  Keith told him.

“I like first-hand accounts better than hear-say.”  Lance shrugged.  “And I’m a bit curious as to why the hottest person in this school seems to have the most prickly personality.”

Keith narrowed his eyes.  “Stop that.”

“Stop what?  Eating?”  Lance asked, taking a bite of his sandwich.

“Don’t call me hot, don’t ask for my number, and stop talking to me.”  Keith said.

“Look, I’m sorry about the flirting thing,”  Lance said.  “I didn’t mean to make anyone uncomfortable.  I was just trying to start a conversation.  That’s kind of just how I am.”

Keith rolled his eyes.  What kind of weirdo tried to start a conversation by flirting?  

Lance went on. “So it was the flirting that bothered you?”

“Yeah.”  

“Then I’ll stop.  I promise.  No more flirting, ever again.”  Lance said, picking off a couple of grapes from the bunch he had.  “Can I ask why, though?  Just for future reference.  Are you just not into guys or something?” 

Keith stared at him, stunned.  Did he just…?  He shook his head.  “That wasn’t it.”

“Then what was it?”  Lance asked.  Keith didn’t say anything.  Lance sighed.  “Look, I’m not trying to be an ass.  I’m just genuinely curious.  So I don’t make the same mistake again and upset you--”

“I don’t want you flirting with me just because you see me as a girl.”  Keith blurted out.  He could have kicked himself as soon as he said it, but instead he just took a bite of his sandwich and hoped he would choke on peanut butter.

“Oh, okay.”  Lance said.  He was quiet for several long moments, looking thoughtful.  “Hey, um, what are your pronouns?”

Keith stared at him.  “What?”

“Your pronouns.  Like how do you like to be referred to?”  Lance asked.  

“What?”  Was he he serious?

“Well, you said you didn’t like me flirting with you because it means I see you as a girl.”  Lance explained.  “Which, by the way, isn’t really true, because I’m actually pan.  But anyway, if you don’t want to be seen as a girl, what do you want to be seen as?”  

Keith looked down at the table, feeling like the world was spinning under his feet.  He didn’t know what to do.  Was this guy serious?  Was he just joking, and would only use this information against him later?  What was going on?  

After a few minutes of silence, Lance cleared his throat and spoke up again.  “Oh boy, my favorite gender identity: silence.”  

Keith glared at him.  Lance just smiled warmly in return.  “Hey, you know, you never told me your name.”

“You heard it during roll call.”  Keith looked away.

“Well, I’ve got a terrible memory, so you might have to tell me again.”  He could tell from Lance’s tone that he was joking.  Why, though, was still beyond him.  

He was quiet for a few minutes, rubbing his finger over a split grain in the wood of the tabletop.  “Keith.”  He said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.  

Lance grinned.  “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Keith.”  He popped the last grape into his mouth and closed up the tuperware.  “So, what do you like to do for fun around here?”  

“There’s not much to do here.”  Keith snorted.  

“Cow tipping?”  

“That’s not a real thing, you know.”  

“Really?”  Lance looked a bit disappointed.  “Then what  _ do _ you do?”

Keith shrugged.  “Read books.  Draw, sometimes.”  

“Ooh, a boy with a muse.  Fascinating.”  Lance propped his elbows on the table and rested his chin on top of his laced fingers, smiling.  He smile faded to uncertainty when Keith just stared at him in shock.  “Person with a muse?”  

“What?”  

“You never answered me about the pronouns.”  Lance reminded him.  “Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed.  Are you a boy?  Person?  …Being?”

“Um.”  Keith hesitated.  “Boy.  He/him pronouns.  If… if that’s okay.”  

“Hey, you set the rules, dude, not me.”  Lance said.  

Keith was beginning to feel very out of his element.  A warmth had settled in his chest, but this was all too new, too scary.  He decided to take control of the conversation and turn it back on Lance.  “So why would you move here from Florida?”  He asked.

“My mom got a job at Hendrick County General Hospital the next town over.”  Lance explained.  “She’s a nurse.  And the only available house in the area that wasn’t a huge farm was in this town.”  

“The house on Fifth Street?”  Keith asked before he could stop himself.  Lance looked up from his lunch.

“How did you know?”  He asked, sounding mystified.

Keith shrugged.  “It’s been the only vacant house in this town for about seven years.”  He said.  “Welcome to small, dead-end towns, where everyone knows everyone’s business and no one ever leaves.”  

“You sound like you want to.”  Lance commented.  Keith shrugged again, not willing to say too much on the matter.  He was still having a hard time trusting this person.  Lance paused to take a sip of the blue gatorade he had brought, then went on.  “So, does it snow here?”  

Keith snorted.  “Yeah.  You’ll be real sick of it by January, though.”

“You’ll have to teach me how to make a snowman.”  Lance said.  

“You’ve really never seen snow?”  Keith asked.

“Never.”  Lance shook his head.  “I think Hell itself would have to freeze over before Florida got snow.”  

“Where in Florida?”  Keith asked, curious.  He had never been that far south.  All he knew about the state was that it had beaches, Disney World, and oranges.  

“Miami.”  Lance said.  

“Wow.”  Keith couldn’t imagine moving from such a huge and glamorous city to a middle-of-nowhere town like this.

“No, not the Miami you’re thinking of.”  Lance smiled ruefully.  “Technically I lived in a suburb of Miami.  No tall skyscrapers or resort hotels or beaches.  Think tiny, colorful, run-down houses, Spanish moss on everything, way too many taco places, and little abuelitos selling ice pops and helados out of push-carts with bells on the handles.”  He hunched over and held out his hands like he was pushing a cart.  

“Abwa-what?”  Keith asked.

“Abuelitos.  Little grandpas, but they’re like, the whole neighborhood’s grandpas.”  Lance explained.  “It’s Spanish.  My family moved from Cuba when I was little.  We lived in a largely Hispanic neighborhood near Miami.  But then my mom’s hospital there transferred her here -- who would have imagined those two hospitals had connections, huh? -- and here we are.” Lance made a vague gesture.  “I’m the only one of my family in high school, right now.  My brother Luís will be a freshman next year.  My twin sisters Ana and Maria are in seventh grade, and Eddy is in fifth grade.  Oh, and Andi is in college, but they don’t live at home anymore.  They stayed in Florida for school.”  

“That’s a… big family.”  Keith said.

“Eh, it’s pretty normal.”  Lance shrugged.  “Don’t you have any siblings?”

“No.”  Keith looked down.  “No parents, either.  I live with my grandparents.”

Lance froze.  “Oh.  I’m--”

“Don’t.”  Keith cut him off before he could apologize.  “It’s not like it was your fault.”  His grandparents had told him time and time again that it was his fault alone, for giving their daughter a difficult childbirth.  He was the only one who could apologize for her death.  Him, and his father, who had put her in that situation to begin with, and then had run out on her.  

Silence settled over the two of them for several minutes.  Keith instantly regretted saying anything; it was his fault that he had turned this lighthearted, happy conversation -- the first he had had with someone in over a year -- into something heavy and dark.  He should have just let Lance ramble on about his life.  

Before he could think of something else to say, the bell had rung, signalling the end of lunch.  There was a flurry of movement and scraping sounds as students got up, chattering away before they had to return to class.  Keith stood up and grabbed his lunch bag, heading for the doors.  

“Hey, Keith,” Lance called.  Keith turned back, still shocked that he had called him that.  Lance smiled.  

“Can I eat lunch with you again tomorrow?”  He asked.  Keith blinked.   _ Again _ ?  Why?

“I guess.”  Keith said, still confused.  “If you really want to.”  

Lance grinned brightly and waved as he left for class.  

~~~~~

Lance turned out to be in a few more of his afternoon classes.  It wasn’t exactly surprising, given the small size of their grade as a whole, but what was surprising was that Lance would drop into the empty seat closest to Keith (and there usually was one, since very few of their classmates would willingly sit near him) and chatted with him before class started, sometimes asking for directions to his next class or trying to figure out what chapter they were on in the subject.  He had transferred in a couple of months into the school year, so he was a little behind in some subjects and a little ahead in others.  

It had been a long time since anyone had spoken to Keith in school with anything other than scorn, much less had an actual conversation with him.  While he felt a little off-balance at first, he found himself becoming excited to see Lance and talk to him.  Lunch, which he had hated before, quickly became his favorite time of the day.  He enjoyed hearing about Lance’s life, about how his old school had been made up of buildings with “hallways” outside -- “that’s pretty typical for schools in warmer climates” -- and about how he used to catch lizards with his siblings and go swimming in the ocean on weekends.  Lance was appalled that Keith had never played video games before and insisted that he was going to have to come over sometime and let him teach him how to play.  Keith was so stunned that he had just been invited over to someone’s house that he actually dropped his pencil.    

The good mood lasted about a week, and then reality set back in.  People had taken notice of the fact that Lance was hanging around Keith, and turned their bullying on him too.  They whispered and stared at him, they pretended not to see either of them when they spoke, they poked him in the back of his head with pencils.  They knocked their shoulders into Keith in the hallway and muttered things about how he was corrupting the new kid, and what they would do to him if he kept stepping out of line, out of his place.

Lance tried to hide it, but Keith knew the signs too well.  When Lance came to lunch a few minutes late with pages torn out of his notebook and a large boot-print on the cover, Keith pushed himself away from the table, grabbed his lunch-bag, and walked out the door.  

“Hey!  Where are you going?”  Lance ran after him, grabbing his arm.  

Keith spun around.  “Don’t you get it?  They’re picking on you because you hang out with me.  If you stop, they’ll stop.”

“That’s a really dumb-ass logic.”  Lance said, crossing his arms.  “No one gets to tell me who I can be friends with.  Especially not for stupid reasons like that.”  

“You’re digging your own grave.”  Keith told him.  

“Then grab a shovel, because I’m not stopping.”  Lance said firmly.  

When Lance finally managed to convince Keith to come back to the cafeteria, they returned to find Lance’s lunch thrown in the garbage can, lunch-bag and all.  

“Oh, that’s real mature.”  Lance muttered, fishing the cloth bag out of the garbage.  

“I’m leaving.”  Keith said, turning around again.  Lance grabbed his arm.  

“No.  You sit down,” he said.  “I’m going to go to the vending machine, and then I am going to continue my Legend of Zelda game explanation from yesterday and we are going to have a nice lunch, damn it.”  

Keith sat, not knowing what else to do.  Lance came back a few minutes later with a packaged plasticky-looking Danish and a bag of Funyuns from the vending machine in the corner.  Keith tore his sandwich in half and wordlessly handed it to him.

Lance stared at it a moment before shaking his head.  “I’m not taking your food.  You barely eat enough as it is.”

“I eat enough.”  Keith said.  

“You eat the same single sandwich every day.”  Lance said.  “That’s like… four hundred calories, max.  You could at least bring some veggies or something.”  

“Says the guy eating Funyuns and a pastry.”  Keith pointed out.

“Hey, I had a lovely ham and cheese sandwich, carrots, grapes, and a cookie packed.”  Lance said.  “Not my fault I didn’t get to eat it.”

“No.”  Keith looked down.   

“And it’s not your fault either.”  Lance frowned and pointed a Funyun at him sternly.  “I know that face you’re making.  Stop it.”  

Keith narrowed his eyes at him.  “I’m right, though.”  It was his fault that this was all happening to Lance.  If he would have just stayed away, this wouldn’t be happening.

“You’re not, and even if you were, I don’t care.”  Lance popped the Funyun into his mouth.  “Now, do you want to hear about Hyrule lore or not?”  


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;  
> If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;  
> If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster  
> And treat those two impostors just the same;  
> If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken  
> Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,  
> Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,  
> And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I wrote/posted this we don’t know Keith’s birthday so I made one up. I guessed on Lance’s too, when I wrote this, (coming up next chapter!) and I was RIGHT, HA! He just seems like a summer baby.

Over the next few months, several rules were broken.

Keith broke his rule about talking to people at school, since he started talking to Lance.  He broke his rule about letting himself get close to someone, and letting them get close to him.  He broke his rule about seeing anyone from school outside of school, as he started accepting Lance’s invitations to hang out, to go get ice cream, to play basketball in the park, to go over to his house to study or play games.  

He was a bit overwhelmed, the first time he went to Lance’s house.  There was so much noise -- not unpleasant, just so much  _ more _ than his own house -- and explosions of color all around, and spicy smells emanating from the kitchen, and so many people greeting him with hugs… he was willing to bet he got more hugs in ten minutes at Lance’s house than he had in the past ten years.  He was feeling a bit frazzled and overwhelmed by the time Lance dragged him back to his bedroom, and Lance seemed to notice.  

“Sorry about them.”  Lance said quietly.  “They’re… I mean, I know they can be a lot…”

“No,” Keith said quickly.  “I mean, a little, but… in a good way.  Really.”  

Lance grinned, relieved.  Keith got more used to Lance’s family, eventually even getting to the point where he laughed at Ana’s terrible puns and played with Eddy like he was his own brother and chatted with Lance’s mother about school and her job.  She pushed second helpings on him whenever he stayed for dinner and insisted on having him taste test everything she cooked when he was around, after hearing that he had never had Cuban food before.  

It took a little while, but Keith began to come out of his shell more and more.  He had more color in his face and looked healthier and happier, so much so that Lance sometimes had a hard time reconciling the boy in front of him with the grouch who had snapped at him on his first day at school.  Only sometimes, though; there were still plenty of days where it was hard to get Keith to smile, where he could practically  _ see  _ the weight settled heavy on his shoulders.  Sometimes, he would relent and talk about it when Lance asked, but other times nothing could make him speak, and it was all Lance could do to just sit next to him with an arm around his shoulders in silent comfort.  From what he could tell, a lot of Keith’s stress seemed rooted in the bullying, both from his classmates and the more passive-aggressive forms he faced from his grandparents at home.  A lot of it stemmed from dysphoria, too.  When Lance tried to help with that, suggesting things like a haircut or wearing a binder, Keith just shook his head.  He said he couldn’t; if his grandparents found out, they might send him away to some hospital to “fix” him.  When Lance told him that was illegal, he just shrugged and said that it still happened.  Besides, he didn’t want to do anything that would result in more bullying, and transitioning in any way would surely do that.  So Lance did what he could, calling him handsome and using his name and pronouns.    

After a few months, Lance broke one of his own rules.  He had told Keith on the first day that he wouldn’t try flirting with him again, but he skirted that line every time he called him handsome and so on.  Finally, he full-on broke that rule when he asked him out on a date.  Fortunately, Keith didn’t seem to mind this time.  

They were pretty limited on date options.  Keith’s house was out of the question, and anything at Lance’s house carried the risk of being interrupted by siblings demanding to watch the movie with them or teasing them.  All good-naturedly, but interruptions all the same.  They sometimes did things in town, like getting ice cream or going to the movie theater, but anytime they ran into someone from school, things tended to get heated and Lance found himself having to break up a number of fights between Keith and whoever had chosen to call them slurs that day.  As such, they took a lot of walks together in the woods that ran behind town, Lance bundled up what he deemed a suitable number of layers to brave the cold in, and Keith laughing at him in his own light jacket.  

When it finally snowed, Keith taught Lance how to make a snowman.  

“So, you get some snow like this,” he said, scooping up a handful of snow.  Lance copied him, watching his hands carefully as he patted it into a ball.  “And then you pack it into a ball so it holds the shape, and then you…” Keith pulled back his arm and threw the snowball.  Lance jumped and let out a yelp when the snowball hit him square in the chest.  Keith just smirked as Lance sputtered at him indignantly.

“I may not know much about snow, but I know that is not one of the steps to making a snowman!”  Lance exclaimed.   

“What are you talking about, that is an integral and important step in making a snowman.”  Keith said, fighting to keep a straight face.  Lance paused, looking like he was considering the possibility of that being true, and Keith cracked, bursting out into laughter.

“You’re lying!”  Lance pointed an accusing mitten-covered finger at him.  He threw his own half-packed-down snowball at Keith, the whole thing disintegrating into powder mid-air.  Only a few snowflakes actually made it to Keith, who just laughed harder.    “You are the worst snowman-making teacher ever!” Lance scooped up more powder and tossed it over Keith’s head, but the other boy just laughed and brushed it off his hair, undeterred.  

“Alright, alright, back to the lesson.”  Keith bent down and scooped another handful of snow, giggling at the way Lance backed away from him warily.  “So, you make a snowball, pack it, and then basically just make it bigger.  Keep rolling it in the snow until it’s the size you want.”  He demonstrated, rolling the growing ball along the ground for a few moments before stepping back.  “Now you try.”

Lance bent down and copied his movements, pushing the ball through the snow and making it bigger.  “Woah!  This is just like it looks in the movies!  That’s so cool!”  

Keith had to laugh at that.  Lance finished up the bottom ball and made another snowball, rolling that one along the ground as well.  

“Amazing!  That really is just like the movies!”  Getting the hang of it, Lance picked up the second ball and set it on top of the first one before Keith could tell him to pack the first ball down.  The weight crushed the loosely-held-together snow and the entire thing collapsed on itself, leaving Lance standing over it with a shocked expression.  He blinked.  “...That doesn’t happen in the movies.”  

Keith laughed so hard he had to sit down on a snow-covered log for a minute.

~~~~~

Until he spent time around Lance’s family, Keith had no idea that his own home life was so… different.  He simply had no frame of reference, having never met either of his parents or lived in any other situation.  He wasn’t used to open displays of affection, both seeing them and receiving them.  He had automatically jumped when Lance’s father -- a burly mechanic with an impressive mustache and dark, intelligent eyes -- clapped him on the shoulder, mistaking the friendly gesture for a strike.  He tensed up and his heart started racing when one of the kids screamed, even if it was just because of a spider.  His answers were still hesitant and uncertain whenever someone asked him something about himself, carefully concealing parts of his personality that he had gotten in trouble for in the past.  He jumped whenever someone set something down too loudly.  He was always surprised when he was offered more to eat, even after being given a huge plate of food to begin with.  He blushed and didn’t know what to do with himself whenever someone gave him the slightest bit of praise, because he wasn’t used to being told that he was anything other than an idiot and disgusting and a waste of precious life.  When he admitted that to Lance, he had curled in on himself in fear when he saw the immediate anger that overtook his boyfriend’s expression, and had to be calmed down and reassured that it wasn’t Keith he was angry at. 

It wasn’t until he spent time around Lance’s family that he realized that the survival skills he had picked up were not something that was normal, something that everyone did.  Lance didn’t even look away from the video game he was playing when a draft slammed a door shut elsewhere in the house, let alone flinch like Keith did.  Eddy didn’t think twice about wearing a tutu and a tiara around the house, declaring himself Grand Supreme Princess of the Universe, and Maria barely even glanced up from her book as she reminded him that even the Grand Supreme Princess of the Universe had to do their homework as they had a spelling test tomorrow.  Luís didn’t even bother hiding himself as he snuck cookie batter out of the bowl and just giggled rather than cowered in fear when his mother waved the spoon in his direction, telling him “is it your quinceñera this weekend?  I don’t think so.   _ Vete, niño… _ ”  

He tried to get better, he really did.  He tried to calm his racing heart and tell himself that no strike was coming, the food wouldn’t be taken away, it was just a hug… But whenever he left the warmth of Lance’s house, the reality he had to go back to was a harsh reminder that the world that had given him his survival skills was the one he needed to live in.  He had to hide, he had to fake it, he had to swallow his pride and choke back the words he wanted to say when someone called him by his birth name.  He had to judge each situation carefully, had to eat what he could quickly before it was gone, had to weigh his options and cut his loses and try to live another day.  

~~~~~

One afternoon, Keith flinched when his grandmother set the groceries down on the counter.  He knew, instinctively, that she was angry, just from the way she had done it.  She hadn’t slammed them, but he could still tell.  Passive-aggressive anger was a language he knew well, but couldn’t articulate in words.  

“Ran into Mr. Iverson when I was in town.”  She said, putting the groceries away with the same quiet anger she had set the bags down with; it was like an undertow current, deadly and lurking under the surface, only noticeable to someone who knew the signs.  “He said he saw you walking hand-in-hand with some boy the other day.”  

Keith’s pencil stilled mid-way through a math equation, the motion matching his heart as it stopped.  

“Why didn’t you say anything about getting yourself a boyfriend?”  His grandmother asked, and it took all his strength not to flinch when the refrigerator door shut.  “I was thinking it was about high time you did.  I was getting worried you’d never grow out of that ‘pretending to be a boy’ phase you had.  How come you never mentioned him?”  

“I… forgot.”  Keith said lamely.

She scoffed.  “You’d forget your own head if it wasn’t attached to your shoulders, child.”   _ You’re stupid _ was what she really said.  He could tell, from her tone.  It was one he had heard many times before.  

“Mr. Iverson said this boy looked Mexican.  Is he Mexican?”  She asked.

“Cuban.”  Keith said.  

“Well, I suppose it’s fine to have your fun with him, but don’t go marrying him.”  She said, distaste evident in her voice.  “And don’t you dare end up like your mother.  You’ll be out of this house, you hear?”  

“Yes ma’am.”  He swallowed hard.

“And we’ll have to meet him, you know.  We have to decide whether he’s suitable or not.”  She said, folding up the bags in a way that Keith feel like his hair was standing on end.  “And you really should dress a bit nicer and grow your hair back out, dear.  Mr. Iverson said when he first saw you two, he thought it was two boys holding hands!”  She laughed, as though what she said wasn’t a thinly-veiled threat. 

When Keith saw Lance the next day, he told him his grandparents wanted to meet him.  

“So you’ll have to call me Karen, and use she/her pronouns, and I’ll be wearing a dress.”  Keith explained, averting his eyes.  

“Are you sure you want me to do that?”  Lance asked.  He knew how Keith hated being misgendered.  “I don’t have to, you know.  Maybe if we just explained--”

“There’s no explaining with them.  If they decide they don’t approve of you, I won’t be allowed to see you anymore, and there will be nothing we can do about it.”  Keith cut him off.  He squeezed Lance’s hand and went on, his voice quiet.  “I can’t… I can’t risk losing you.”  

Lance pulled him in for a hug.  “I’m not going anywhere.”  He wrapped his arms around him and carded a hand through his hair.  His hair was a little longer than shoulder-length, the shortest his grandmother allowed it to be, and curled up a little where it hit his shoulders.  Lance had affectionately dubbed it a mullet whenever Keith called it a ‘girl haircut’.  

Luckily, Lance managed to survive his dinner-turned-interview with Keith’s grandparents.  He showed up promptly at 5:30 dressed in his Sunday best and bearing a plate of brownies that he had baked himself, flashing charming smiles and well-timed compliments to Keith’s grandparents.  He kept up the facade of misgendering Keith when necessary, and carefully fielded any statements made about his race with good grace.  He even slipped in hints that he believed very strongly in waiting until marriage for any kind of intimacy, even kissing (Keith knew for a fact that wasn’t true).  He nodded politely all the way through Keith’s grandfather’s long-winded lecture about Castro and communism and America’s relationship with Cuba in general, even though Keith could see his hand clenching into a fist against his knee under the table.  He praised the dinner Keith’s grandmother had made, even though Keith knew for a fact that Lance’s father’s cooking was far better.  After dinner, he offered to help with the dishes, but Keith’s grandmother told him not to worry about “women’s work” and instead dragged Keith off to wash the dishes with her.  

When Keith walked him back out to his car (he had borrowed it from his mother for the night, to get to dinner at the Koganes’), Keith apologized profusely on behalf of his grandparents for their behavior.  

“It’s fine.  Nothing I didn’t expect, to be honest.”  Lance said.  “And one-hundred percent worth it for you.”  

Keith crossed his arms and shifted his weight, disliking the chill wrapping around his bare legs under the skirt.  “What did you think of them?”  

Lance was quiet for a moment, then took his hands and gave him a soft smile.  “I love you.  And you are the strongest, bravest, most handsome boy in the universe.  I just want you to know that, okay?”

“I’m wearing a dress.”  Keith said flatly.  

“So?  Doesn’t change what I said.”  Lance said.  “If anything, that only makes you braver.”  

Keith smiled, despite the heaviness that the night had brought down on his heart.  

“Do you think I passed the test?”  Lance asked.  

“Grandma said you’re ‘fine to date, but not marriage material’.”  Keith rolled his eyes.  She had told him again while the two of them were washing dishes in the kitchen and Lance was being subjected to another spiel about ‘kids these days’ from his grandfather in the other room.  

“Well  _ somebody  _ doesn’t like a little Latin spice in her cooking.”  Lance wiggled his eyebrows, making Keith laugh.  

“Well this somebody does, and he isn’t sharing his food.”  Keith said.  

“Ooh, kinky.”  

“I would smack your ass right now if they weren’t watching from the window.”

“Ooh, even kinkier.”  

“Oh my God, stop.”  Keith laughed.  Lance chuckled and blew him an air kiss as he unlocked his car, mindful of the elderly couple peeking through the curtains.           

~~~~~

“You know what,” Lance said one sunny early-autumn afternoon as they walked home from school, swinging their joined hands.  After their relationship had gotten the green light from the Koganes, Lance didn’t seem able to let go of Keith’s hand.  “You, good sir, have been holding out on me.  Keeping secrets, if you will.”  

Keith could tell from his tone that he was joking, but the words still made him nervous.  A smile from Lance, though, soothed his nerves enough for him to ask.  “How so?”

Lance pulled him to a stop and faced him, taking both of his hands.  “You haven’t told me when your birthday is.”  

“Oh.”  Keith was relieved that was all it was.  “January eleventh.”  

Lance’s eyes widened.  “I  _ missed it _ ?!”

“Well, we weren’t dating then.”  Keith pointed out.

“So?  We were still  _ friends _ !”  Lance pouted.  “That’s just not fair.”  

“I’m sorry, are you upset on my behalf?”  Keith asked, bemused.  

“Yes!”  Lance said.  “And I didn’t get to bake you a birthday cake!  Or get you a present!”

“You don’t have to do any of that stuff.”  Keith laughed dismissively.  “I don’t even really celebrate my birthday.  I forget about it, most of the time.”

“Wha-- tha… that makes it  _ worse _ …” Lance frowned.  “No, no, no.  Mark your calendar, baby, and block that day off.  We’re gonna throw you the best birthday ever.”  

Keith chuckled, and after a couple of months, had all but forgot about their conversation.  Lance, however, had very much not.  Keith’s birthday was on a Saturday, so he turned up that morning at the Kogane household with a single red rose in a blue glass vase.  After the flower had been set on Keith’s desk, Lance all but threw his mittens and scarf at him before ushering him out the door for a romantic walk in the woods back to Lance’s house.  Lance even valiantly offered Keith the first shot in the snowball war that inevitably took place halfway through their walk, although he begged “not the face, please, I need my devilishly-handsome good looks.”  Keith shoved a handful of snow in his face just for that and ran away when Lance chased after him, but they were both laughing by the time he tackled him into a snowbank.  They showed up at Lance’s house fifteen minutes later than expected and drenched with snow, their cheeks red from the cold.  

Lance’s mother chided her son for even thinking to throw a snowball at his boyfriend on his birthday, and made them both warm up with a mug of hot chocolate before proceeding with the festivities, which included the whole family singing _happy birthday_ to him and having him make a wish and blow out the candle on a red-velvet cake that looked like all his siblings had a hand in decorating.  Lance elbowed him incessantly to tell him his wish, but Keith just dabbed frosting on his nose for it.  After the cake was eaten and dishes cleaned up, Keith was blindfolded and spun around before being directed by the younger siblings to hit the piñata, while Lance attempted to direct him into the wall.  Keith took a few pieces of candy when they told him to, but he left most of it for the younger children, who eagerly descended upon the wrecked piñata like vultures, making Keith, Lance, and his older sibling Andi who was visiting on winter break, laugh.  

When he met them, Andi had introduced themselves as being agender, and Keith instantly saw where Lance had learned to be so accepting of other genders from.  When he confided in this to Lance, the other boy just shrugged.  “I don’t think it’s a ‘learned’ thing.”  He said.  “Children don’t really care about gender when they’re little.  They learn to hate things like that from observing adults.  I just never learned to hate it.  Mamá and Andi just encouraged me to keep the mindset that all really little children have, and taught me not to hate.”  

While the kids were distracted with the piñata, Lance touched Keith’s arm to get his attention and gestured for him to follow him.  He did, and Lance led him back to his room.  He picked up a box wrapped in silver paper with a red bow on it from where it sat on his desk, grinning as he held it out to Keith.  

“Happy birthday.”  He pressed the gift into his hands, kissing him on the cheek.  Keith smiled.  

“You really didn’t have to get me anything.”  He said, running a finger over the ribbon.  “Today was already more wonderful than I could have imagined.”

“Well, just consider this icing on the birthday cake.”  Lance said, bouncing on his toes.  “Go on, open it.”  

Keith chuckled at his impatience and carefully opened the wrapping paper, sliding his fingers under the edge to take it off without tearing it too much.  It had been a long time since he had gotten a present from anyone, and he wanted to savor it.  He opened the lid of the box and found what looked like a black tank-top inside.  “A shirt?”  He picked up up, but the moment he felt the stiff fabric panel on the front, he knew what it was.  

“It’s a binder.”  Lance said.  “I had to guess on your size, but if it doesn’t fit, they have a free exchange policy.”  

“Lance…” Keith swallowed thickly, setting the box aside to hold the binder in both hands.  He didn’t know what to say.  

“O-or, if you don’t like the color or style or something, we can always exchange it--” 

Keith cut him off by throwing his arms around him in a hug.  “Thank you.  I love it.”  He let go of Lance with one arm to scrub at his eyes.  “I-I… this means so much to me.  So much.”  

Lance hugged him back, and Keith could feel him smiling against his neck.  “Do you want to try it on?”  

Keith nodded eagerly.  Lance chuckled and lightly tapped his butt as he let go of him.  “Bathroom’s that way, you handsome stud.”  

Keith couldn’t stop grinning as he shut the bathroom door.  He took off his shirt and wiggled out of the sports bra he was wearing (he couldn’t wear it too often, or his grandmother would berate him when she did the laundry, but he could get away with wearing it occasionally).  Picking up the binder, he examined it in his hands for a few moments before tugging it on.

Or, at least, he tried to.

He knew what a binder did, of course, but he wasn’t quite prepared for just how tight the thing would be.  It got stuck around his head, trapping his arms above him in a way where he couldn’t get them down.  He panicked silently and struggled for a couple of minutes before, to his horror, Lance knocked on the door.  “How’s it going?”  He called through the closed door.

“Um.”  Keith felt like his face was on fire.  “I kinda… got… stuck.”  

“Hang on, I’m going to get Andi.”  Lance told him.  Keith leaned back against the wall opposite the sink, letting his head  _ thunk _ against the wall.  This was mortifying.  Humiliating.  He was stuck with his arms up and everything that he was trying to hide on full display.  A minute later, there was another knock on the door. 

“Keith?  It’s Andi.  Can I come in?”  

He nodded, not trusting his voice, then realized how stupid that was.  “Yeah.”  

The door cracked open and Andi slipped in, quickly closing the door once more.    

“Don’t worry about it, hon, it happens to more people than you’d think, first time they put one on.  There’s a reason there are so many tutorials on YouTube.”  Andi set a nude-colored binder on the sink behind them.  “Can I touch you?”  

He nodded.  Andi directed him to pull his arms in close to his head, then carefully maneuvered the stiff fabric down until it was situated properly.  

“Now, the lesson, so you don’t have to go through that again.”  Andi picked up the binder they had brought from its place on the sink.  They took off their t-shirt and demonstrated how to put it on over the binder they were already wearing, pointing out certain things and giving him helpful tips, then did the same thing as they showed him how to take it off.  

“And what I just did there, wearing two binders?  That was strictly for educational purposes, a lesson with no nip, if you will.  Don’t ever wear two binders at once.  Never.  It puts too much pressure on your chest and it can warp your ribcage at best or break a rib at worst.”  They took off the second binder and put their shirt back on.  “And try not to wear it for more than eight hours at a time.  I know it might be hard to remember sometimes, but really try.  Your body will thank you for it.  Remember to take breaks from wearing it, and stretch after taking it off.  Try wearing it for short periods of time at first, and I wouldn’t suggest wearing it to school right off the bat.  I did that and nearly had a panic attack from feeling like I couldn’t breathe after a couple hours.  It didn’t help that I was in a binder one size too small, either.  And speaking of that…” They had him stretch, test his range of motion, and take deep breaths before nodding, satisfied.  “Seems like he guessed the right size.  My brother’s a smart one, despite how he acts.”  

Keith had to chuckle at that.  

Andi smiled.  “Alright, now take a look at yourself in the mirror.”  

Keith did, finally looking in the mirror over the sink.  The reflection looking back startled him.  He looked…  _ right _ .  He tended to avoid looking in mirrors, not wanting to see the person that he saw there, who was curvy in places he felt should be straight.  His waist, underneath the spandex-like fabric, was still slim, but his chest was practically gone.  He turned to the side, and was shocked to see how flat he was.  Not completely, granted, but it looked more like pecs than breasts now.  He grinned, and his reflection grinned back at him, something he didn’t often see.  

“Woo, my little bro’s gonna have a hard time keeping his hands off you, stud.”  Andi tossed his t-shirt back at him with a wink that was uncannily like Lance’s.  He caught the shirt and pulled it on, and if anything that made everything even  _ better _ .  He left the bathroom and found Lance leaning against the wall a little ways down the hallway, hands in his pockets.  He looked up, blinked as he took in the sight, then grinned.  

“Well, hey there, hot stuff.”  Lance winked.  “I’m looking for my boyfriend, seen him around?”  

Andi made kissy noises and ruffled his hair as they walked past.  He gave them a disgruntled look and smoothed his hair down. 

“We are having a  _ moment _ , Andi,  _ gosh _ …”  He pretended to act affronted until they disappeared around the corner, then turned back to Keith.  “You look great.  How do you like it?”  

“I love it.”  Keith leaned in and gave him a peck on the lips.  “And I love you.” 

“Best birthday ever.”  Lance hugged him.

Keith giggled.  “You’re acting like it’s  _ your  _ birthday.”  

“Your  _ presence _ is the best gift.”  Lance smirked.  

“Oh my God, stop it.”  Keith laughed.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t know if it’s necessarily /common/ to get stuck in a binder the first time putting it on, but it sure as heck happened to me. I was *THIS* close to having to ask my roommate for help before I managed to escape, and then I discovered the plethora of tutorials online and didn’t feel quite so dumb. Granted it was one of the kind with clips rather than a proper binder, but I didn’t know the difference (and if you don’t know the difference either, I do not recommend those ones with the clips up the side, those cheap ones that are like five bucks on amazon. It turns out they’re also bad for your ribs. The best ones have a stretchy/spandex back so you don’t crush your ribs).


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you can make one heap of all your winnings   
> And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,   
> And lose, and start again at your beginnings   
> And never breathe a word about your loss;   
> If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew   
> To serve your turn long after they are gone,   
> And so hold on when there is nothing in you   
> Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this before Lance’s birthday was announced and was relieved when it lined up. *victorious fist-pump* Que serendipity eh?

Keith managed to, in his own words, “get him back” for his birthday, come that summer.  The day before, he conspired with Lance’s family for the kids to get Lance out of the house for a while while he helped his father bake a cake with blue icing.  Keith even applied his artistic skills to the decorating and turned the top into what looked like icing-sculpted waves and a beach made of crumbled graham crackers.  They hid the cake until the next day, when Keith joined Lance’s family for their traditional festivities.  After lunch and cake, Keith blindfolded Lance and had him sit in the passenger seat of his own car while Keith drove him to a little-known swimming area of a river that was about an hour away from town (after a while, Lance was allowed to take the blindfold off, but he had to put it back on when they got close for the surprise).  They spent the afternoon swimming and splashing each other, Lance wearing the gaudiest flowery swim trunks Keith had ever laid eyes on, and Keith in a pair of basketball shorts and a t-shirt.  When the air started to get a bit chilly, they built a fire on the narrow beach along the river and dried off, eating the picnic dinner Keith had packed for them.  They stayed out there until it was dark and they could look at the stars from where they laid on the riverbank, pointing out the constellations they knew and making up their own when they ran out of real ones.  It was late by the time they headed back, and Lance let Keith drive again, partly because he had no idea where they were, but mostly because he wanted to watch the way Keith’s eyes lit up with focus as he drove, one arm resting on the rolled-down window, his hair whipping around in the wind and the moonlight making him glow.  

Because they got back to Lance’s house pretty late at night, Keith spent the night there.  Lance’s mother had already called Keith’s grandmother ahead of time to assure her that “Karen” would be sleeping in Ana and Maria’s room, and that it was just because they wanted to go stargazing behind the house and she simply couldn’t send someone walking home so late at night in good conscience.  Well, they had gone quite a bit further than just behind the house to for their stargazing, and Keith most definitely did not sleep in Ana and Maria’s room.  Lance assured his mother that no funny business would happen that night, and she allowed it because “you know I can hear everything in this house,  _ hijo _ , I know you wouldn’t dare try anything.”  They really did just sleep, and Keith thought it might have been the best sleep he had ever gotten.  He woke up with his head tucked under Lance’s chin and the smell of baking pancakes wafting from the kitchen, and they managed to lazily make out in bed for a little while before Lance’s siblings pounded on the door and told them to get up or else they would miss breakfast.

~~~~~

Somehow or other, they managed to make it through high school in one piece.  To be honest, Keith wasn’t entirely sure how; between their classes, ACT testing, applying for colleges, and the never-ending bullying that they still faced, they both had more than their share of bad days.  That being said, there were moments of calm and even joy littered throughout the storm, and those moments gave them both the courage to keep going.  

They ended up applying for the same college.  It was a stroke of luck that the one college that Keith’s grandparents said he could go to (their alma mater) had accepted both of them, and had majors that they both wanted to pursue.  Keith told Lance it would be dumb to pick a college based on their relationship, but Lance just ruffled his hair and said “it’s affordable, I got a scholarship, they have my major, it’s close enough to home that I can visit my family easily, and you’re there.  It’s my dream school.”

The only trouble came when they applied for housing.  

One day, Keith dropped heavily into his chair in the first class he had with Lance, his expression dark.  Lance looked up.  “Hey, you okay?”

“I’m fine.”  Keith bit out the words in a way that indicated he was not fine at all.  Lance frowned and took his hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of his knuckles. 

“You’re not a very good liar, babe.”  He said softly.  Keith sighed.  

“You got the Altea U housing application in the mail already, right?”

“Yeah?”  

“What did you put on it?”  Keith asked.  

“Kerberos Hall.”  Lance replied.  “It’s in the center of campus, so it looks like it’s easier to get to classes and stuff from it.  Plus, it’s co-ed, so even if we can’t be roommates, we could at least be in the same building.”

Keith scowled.  “No, we can’t.  My grandparents are making me live at Arus Hall, the girls’ dorm.  My grandmother lived there all four years when she was in college.  They wouldn’t let me apply to anywhere else.”  

“Oh.”  Lance said.  He wasn’t very familiar with Arus Hall’s dorm policies, having barely skimmed it since he couldn’t apply there anyway, but he thought he remembered something about there being restricted hours when male students couldn’t visit the dorm.    

Keith was scribbling a dark, cross-hatched square on the corner of his notebook, pressing the pen down with enough force to probably bleed through at least three pages underneath.  Lance squeezed his other hand.  

“Hey, it’ll work out.”  He gave him a reassuring smile.  “We can always have sleepovers in my room.  Kerberos has 24-7 visiting hours.  Plus, no grandparents to tell you when you can or can’t sleep over.”  He waggled his eyebrows at his boyfriend.  Keith’s lips twitched up in a smile.  Maybe it would be okay.  

~~~~~

The potential freedom that college offered, along with Lance’s support, was what made it possible for Keith to get through the last few months of school.   _ They won’t be there, they won’t be there, they won’t be there _ …  It turned into a mantra that he repeated to himself every time his grandparents misgendered him, when his grandmother forced him into a dress for graduation and he had to fake a smile for pictures he knew he would hate looking at for the rest of his life, and when they insisted on inviting the extended family over for a graduation celebration (at which he was required to keep wearing the dress).  

The one and only family member that Keith didn’t dread seeing was his cousin Takashi.  Takashi had been there for him during the disaster that had happened when he decided to come out freshman year, and had been the only person not to dismiss what he said and had actually listened to him.  Unfortunately, the Shiroganes lived halfway across the country from the Koganes, and he didn’t get to see Takashi in person very often.  They talked mostly through an online messenger that Keith could erase after using, in case his grandparents ever tried to snoop on the conversation, and when they got older they texted, but Keith still always erased the messages, since he did catch them trying to look through his phone occasionally. 

Takashi smiled warmly at him when he saw him at the party.  “Hey there, K,” he greeted him, giving his cousin a hug.  The ‘nickname’ was one that they could use safely around family, and only the two of them knew that it really meant Keith rather than Karen.  “Congrats on graduating.”  

“You too.”  Keith smiled.  Takashi was the same age as him.  They didn’t have much time to talk after that, since Keith’s grandmother insisted he needed to greet every guest who turned up (even her church friends that Keith couldn’t put names to if he tried).  When he finally managed to escape, he retreated to the back where Takashi was with a cup of juice and leaned against the wall with him.

“Kill me,” he groaned.  Takashi chuckled.  

“I know the feeling, man.  Mom and Dad did the same thing at my graduation party last week.”  He said.  “Although, they didn’t put me in a dress and heels, so you win this round.”  

“Damn right I win.”  Keith muttered.  “Do you think Grandma would notice if I took my shoes off?”  

Takashi hummed thoughtfully, his eyes finding their grandmother chatting with her bridge group near the snacks table.  “You’d probably have about, oh, fifteen minutes before she noticed.”  

“I’ll take it.”  Keith kicked off the wedge sandals he had been forced into.  His feet were killing him.  

“So, I’m betting you’re starting to hate this question since you probably get asked it as often as I do,” Takashi started.  “But where are you going to college?”

“Altea University.”  Keith said.  “You?”

“Same, actually.”  Takashi said.  “I guess I’ll see you around, huh?”

“Seems like it.  Why Altea U?  Isn’t it a little far for you?”  Keith asked.

“Distance has its benefits.”  Takashi shrugged.  

“Ain’t that the truth.”  Keith muttered into his drink.  

“Plus, not many colleges offer Japanese classes, and even fewer past introductory level.”  Takashi said.  “I’m looking to minor in it.”

“Takashi,  _ you’re  _ Japanese.”  

“But I can’t speak it.”  He said.  “And I want to learn.”  

“Fair enough.”  Keith shrugged.  “You’ll have to teach me how to Ni-hon-go sometime.”

“You are an offense to our ancestors.”  Takashi laughed at his terrible accent.

“Well, we already knew that.”  Keith snorted.  Takashi reached over to ruffle his hair.  

“Karen!  Are you  _ barefoot  _ in the  _ dirt _ ?!”  Their grandmother’s voice rang out.

“Whoops.”  Keith slipped his shoes back on.  

“Soil is actually great for the skin, Grandma.”  Takashi flashed a smile at her.  She frowned and pointed a stern finger at Keith.

“You keep your shoes on, young lady.”

“Yes, ma’am.”   _ They won’t be there at college, they won’t be there, they won’t be there… _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I mentioned in the other fic that is set in the same AU, I’m not personally a fan of the whole “broganes” theory (like I said before, saying a character with a canon surname that sounds a little similar to a fanon surname MUST be related is just a little silly, imo.) But Keith needed /someone/ on his side growing up so I made him and Shiro cousins, which would explain having different last names and possibly not bearing a whole lot of similarity in appearance, but also knowing each other at a personal level. 
> 
> Next chapter is the last one, and it's a long one.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,   
> Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,   
> If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,   
> If all men count with you, but none too much;   
> If you can fill the unforgiving minute   
> With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,   
> Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,   
> And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!
> 
> ("If" by Rudyard Kipling)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the final chapter! Thank you to everyone who read and left comments on this fic! If it seems this ending isn't as happy and light-hearted as you'd like, Keith and Lance appear more in the related sequel-ish fic "Twelve Nights", if you haven't read that one yet.
> 
> Enjoy!

Keith tried to convince his grandparents that he should just catch a ride with Lance for move-in day, but they insisted on helping him move in.  Keith wasn’t really sure what the point of it was, since he was stronger than both of them and they wouldn’t be much help carrying things, but they insisted all the same, so he was forced to endure the two hour car ride full of them reminiscing about their college days.  They said were very excited for him to meet more people and find someone more suitable than Lance to marry.  He bit back what he really wanted to reply and just said he was excited about the variety of courses he would be able to take.  His nerves were frazzled by the end of the trip and he had to keep his short fuse from getting even shorter throughout the check-in and move-in processes, during which he was constantly misgendered.  When he was finally able to wave his grandparents off as they drove away, he slumped back with a groan against the brick wall of the dorm building, feeling exhausted despite the fact that it was only about one in the afternoon.  

“First time leaving home?”  The friendly RA who had was running the check-in table asked.  He let out a weighty sigh and nodded.  She smiled.  “Don’t worry, they’ll get used to having an empty nest eventually.  And now, you get to enjoy your newfound freedom.”

“You don’t know the half of it.”  Keith muttered.  She chuckled. 

“My name is Allura, by the way.  I’m one of the RAs here.  I think you might be in my wing, actually.”  She said.  “What was your name again?”  

“Um.  Kogane.”  

She looked at the list in front of her.  “Karen Kogane?”  

He grimaced.  “Technically.”  

She looked up.  “Technically?”  

He shook his head.  “Never mind, it’s nothing.”  

“Do you have another name you want to be called?”  She asked.  “I can make a note of it.  People have nicknames all the time.”  

“It’s… not really a nickname…” He hesitated, uncertain whether it would be okay to mention it.  

“Hmm…” She tapped her pen against her chin and studied him thoughtfully.  “A preferred name, perhaps? And pronouns?”

He looked up.  “Is.. that okay?”

“That’s perfectly okay.”  She smiled.  

“It’s Keith.  He/him pronouns.”  He felt something warm flare in his chest as Allura wrote that down on her name list.  

“Alrighty, then, Keith.”  She smiled up at him.  “Nice to meet you.”  

He grinned, feeling light at this turn of events.  “Nice to meet you too.”  

“So, then, how do you feel about living at Arus?”  She asked, her smile a bit sad and knowing.

He sighed.  “Not thrilled, frankly.  Sorry.”  

“No need to apologize.  I understand completely.”  Allura said.  “Just know that if there is anything you need, anything at all, you are more than welcome to talk to me.”  

“Thanks.”  Keith smiled.  “I think I’m going to go unpack.”  

“Alright, good luck!”  Allura waved as he left, then turned to check in another student who had just arrived.  

Back up in his room, Keith put his hands on his hips and looked around for a minute, letting it settle in that he was going to be living here.  He was out of that house, away from them, and he still couldn’t quite believe his luck that this was finally happening.  With a grin on his face, he dug the binder Lance had given him out of his backpack and put it on, taking a moment to admire his reflection in the mirror on the closet door before switching out the blouse his grandmother had forced him into for a simple black t-shirt with his dark jeans.  Feeling much more comfortable, he opened the suitcase and started putting clothes into one of the two closets in the room.  

A few minutes later, he heard the jingle of keys and the door opened.  A girl with long blonde hair shouldered open the door with her back to him, two heavy-looking suitcases in her hands.  She set them down next to the desk, then turned around and saw Keith.  He opened his mouth to say hello, but she cut him off.  “What the fuck?”  

Keith blinked, taken aback by her reaction.  “Um.  Hi.  Are you Cathryn?”  He had emailed with his roommate a bit after being assigned a ‘random roommate’ option, as he didn’t know anyone to room with.  He had mentioned, in his last message to her, that he was transgender and asked if she was okay with that or if they needed to ask about switching roommates, but he hadn’t gotten a reply back from her.  

“I didn’t think you were serious.”  She said, staring at him.  His skin crawled uncomfortably at the way her gaze traveled up and down his body, stopping for what felt like too long on his chest as though trying to see what was there.  

“Why would you not think I was serious?”  Keith asked.  

“I don’t know, I thought it was a joke!”  She said, raising her voice.  He felt the hair stand up on his arms while alarm bells blared in his mind.  She shook her head and went on.  “Oh my god, this is not going to work.  You’re going to have to find another roommate, because I am not living with a tranny.  Nope.  Not fucking happening.”  

Keith felt his heart racing, beating against his ribs like it was trying to escape his chest.  It was like he was back in high school all over again, or back at his grandparents’ house.  He knew it was too good to be true.  He knew he could never really be free to live his life the way he wanted to.  The world was going to keep forcing him back into the mold he had been trying to escape from, and one of these days it was going to actually kill him.  

Cathryn was pacing around, muttering things to herself and texting away at her phone, probably telling everyone what was going on.  Suddenly Keith couldn’t breathe.  He had to get out of here.  Without a word to her, he grabbed his phone and room key from where they sat on the bed and pushed past her to the door, trying to ignore the way she stepped away from him like he had the plague.  He ran down the hall and practically vaulted down the stairs, rushing past another family carrying in boxes and out into the sunlight.  He didn’t stop to think, and just ran around the corner.  He couldn’t breathe, and a dim voice in the back of his head was screaming that he couldn’t run like this.  He skidded to a halt and found himself next to a small area with trees and benches between Arus Hall and the next building; it looked like a smoking area, based on the number of ashtray-stands around.  He stumbled over to one of the benches and dropped heavily onto it, pulling his knees up to his chest and hugging them while he buried his face in his knees and tried to get his breathing under control.  He jumped when his phone rang, and was about to ignore it when he saw it was Lance’s name on the screen.  He tapped the button to pick up the call and pressed the phone to his ear.  “Lance…”

“Hey babe, I just finished moving my stuff in and was wondering how you were doing.  If you’re done, want to hit up the dining hall?”  Lance asked, his voice cheery.

“I… Lance… I can’t…”  He couldn’t get the words out.  They kept getting stuck in his throat, and his brain was on overdrive, danger signs flashing in his mind.

“Woah, woah, Keith, take a deep breath, babe.  Draw the air way down into your belly, not your chest.  Can you do that for me?” 

He tried and found he could, with a little effort.  

“Okay, take another one.  All the way down.  In, and out.  In, and out.”  Lance kept his voice calm but firm.  Keith did as he said, and the tightness in his chest started to unwind.  Not completely, but enough to think.  Lance spoke up again.  “Where are you?”  

“Smoking area outside Arus.” He was surprised that his voice didn’t shake as much as he thought it would.  

“I’m on my way.”  Lance said.  Keith thought he could hear him running, the air rushing past his phone a little louder.  “Do you want me to stay on the line?”  

“No, I think I’m okay.”  Keith took another deep breath.  It was a little difficult with the binder around his chest, but he couldn’t take it off; that would mean going back to the room.  

“Alright.  I’ll be there in a few minutes.”  Lance said.  “I’ll have my phone in my hand.  Call me if you need to, okay?”  

Keith nodded.  “Okay.”  

“I love you.”

“Love you.”  

Keith hung up the phone and rested his chin on his knees, staring moodily at a cigarette butt on the brick patio.  He was being stupid, he told himself.  Of course this was going to happen.  He didn’t know why he had expected anything less.  He should have known better than to think his life would get any easier.  He had just gone from one bad place to another.

He jumped, startled when Lance skidded around the corner and slid to a halt in front of him.  

“How’re you doing?”  Lance asked, dropping onto the bench next to Keith.  Keith just shrugged.  Lance’s brow furrowed in a frown.  “Do you need anything?”

Keith barked out a short, humorless laugh.  “I need a new goddamn gender.”  

Lance put an arm around his shoulders and took his hand, running his thumb over the back of his knuckles.  “What happened?”  

Keith told him about meeting his roommate and what she had said to him, and about how he had panicked and run out of the room.  Lance listened carefully and didn’t interrupt him, even though he wanted to chew the girl out more than anything.  He waited until Keith was finished, then spoke up.  

“We should find an RA to tell.”  Lance said.  “She can’t talk to you like that.  Maybe the RA can help you find a new roommate.”  

Keith sighed.  “I just… I don’t know what can be  _ done _ .  Roommate assignments are already set.”  

“That’s why we should talk to the RA.”  Lance said.  “There’s got to be something.  We just have to find out what it is.  But I’m telling you, she cannot treat you like that.  It’s in the student code of conduct.  And this isn’t Hendrick County High.  This is a public university; they have to follow the law or they get reported.  No more of this ‘our hands are tied, figure it out yourself’ bullshit.”  

Keith’s lips twitched up in a faint smile.  “Yeah.  I think you might be right.”

“I am right.  I’m always right.”  Lance said easily, making him laugh.  “I’m also right when I say you are one one fine-looking hunk’a man.”  He dug his fingers into Keith’s side, tickling him.  Keith snorted and batted his hand away, giggling.  Lance relented, propping his ankle up on his knee.  “Oh, speaking of that, I talked to my roommate and he’s super chill with it if you ever want to spend the night or anything.”  

Keith arched an eyebrow at that.  “Do I even want to know why your brain went from ‘hunk of man’ to your roommate?”  

“His name is Hunk.”  Lance said.  “Or at least that’s how he introduced himself.  I kinda doubt that’s his actual name but hey, I don’t judge.”  He squeezed his boyfriend’s shoulders.  “So, what d’ya say we go find an RA to talk to?”  

Keith took a deep breath.  “Alright.”  

Lance leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek as they both got up.  Keith laced their fingers together as they walked back around the building to the front doors.  He froze; Cathryn was at the check-in table, talking to Allura in what was obviously anger.  Allura was standing with her arms crossed and looked very displeased as well.  Keith suddenly felt very sick.  This was not going to work.  

Lance frowned, noticing when he stopped walking.  “Is that her?”  

Cathryn spotted them over Allura’s shoulder and glowered at them.  She pointed angrily.  “There she is!  Tell her she has to knock it off!”  

Keith flinched and Lance’s hand tightened around his.  Allura’s frown deepened.  

“Keith has just as much right to be in that room as you do, Cathryn.  It is his room, too.”  She said firmly.  

“What do you mean ‘ _ his _ ’?”  She asked, her voice rising.  “She can’t keep this stupid thing up; this is a  _ girls dorm _ !”  

“Regardless of the fact that he is living in Arus Hall, Keith has every right to identify however he sees fit.”  Allura said.  “Now, if you cannot calm down and discuss this in a reasonable manner, perhaps we should postpone this conversation for a time when you can.”  

“Wha--?!  I am not being unreasonable!”  Cathryn looked offended.  “I just want to be safe in my own room!  Is that really too much to ask?”

“It is not, and I’m glad you agree that safety in the room is important.”  Allura said, putting her hands on her hips.  “But right now, you are jeopardizing Keith’s safety with shouting and threats, and that is not going to be tolerated.  There are a number of actions we can take to ensure everyone’s safety and comfort, but they need to be discussed in a calm and mature manner.”  She noticed a nervous-looking mother and daughter standing nearby.  “Now, I need to finish checking in new residents, and I suggest you use that time to cool off.  We will continue this discussion later.”  She turned to the two women with a smile.  “I apologize for the disturbance.  Welcome to Arus Hall.”  

Cathryn stared at her for a few more seconds, then turned around and threw her hands up with a frustrated sound as she stalked off.  She didn’t miss the opportunity to glare murderously at Keith as she passed.  

Keith felt sick, his stomach tying itself in knots.  “Can we go?  Somewhere… anywhere?”

Lance nodded and they started to walk away, but Allura called out for them as she handed the new resident her room key and a map of campus.  “Keith, if you wouldn’t mind waiting a minute, I’d like to speak with you.”  

They didn’t have long to wait.  Allura finished checking in the new resident quickly and efficiently, and it wasn’t long before the girl was heading back to the parking lot for her bags and Allura was turning to him.  

“Keith, I am so sorry about all this.”  She apologized.  “What she said to you was completely uncalled for and inappropriate.  It will not happen again after I am done talking with her, I assure you.”  She put her hands on his shoulders.  “I am on your side.  I promise you that.”  

He nodded, not knowing what to say.  Lance grinned and squeezed his hand.  

“See?  I told you.”  Lance squeezed his hand.  Allura looked at him.  

“And you are?”  

“Lance.  Keith’s boyfriend.”  Lance replied.  

She nodded.  “That’s good.  You have at least two people here who support you, Keith.  Don’t forget that.”  She smiled.  “We’ll get this mess figured out.”  

“Thank you.”  Keith said.  “I… I didn’t really know what to do.  She said those things and… it just brought back a lot of bad memories.”  

Lance’s jaw tightened, thinking about what those memories were.  He had a feeling he knew.  

Allura spotted another group of people approaching the check-in table.  She grabbed a flyer with campus safety information on it and wrote something on the back of it before handing it to Keith.  “Here is my number.  I finish with my duties at five tonight.  Text me a time when you would like to hold a meeting with me and your roommate, and I’ll set it up.  I promise we will get something worked out before you need to go to sleep tonight.  As an RA, the safety of everyone in my hall is my first priority.”  

“Thank you.”  Keith took the flyer.  She smiled at him once more before turning away to greet the next new residents.  Lance squeezed his hand reassuringly, then Keith tucked the flyer into his pocket and the two of them headed off to find the dining hall together, hand in hand.  

Altea University’s campus was large, and seemed to be made up of a hodgepodge of buildings in different architectural styles; old brick three-story buildings with wrought-iron balustrades and plaques stating that they were historical points on campus, the sleek modern planes of metal and glass of the engineering building, a large, squat white concrete building that had 1960s modernism written all over it, and everything in between.  There were banners promoting classes and majors hanging outside many of the buildings, and colorful flyers stapled to every telephone pole advertising events around campus, club meetings, and concerts in the bars near the school.  And everywhere he looked, there were so many people; freshmen clutching campus maps and trying not to look lost, upperclassmen calling out to their friends and relaxing on the green in front of the student center, people with brightly-colored dyed hair and people with piercings and people without, people of every race and ethnicity (which Keith thought was a nice change, having come from a town where he was one of five Asian people, two others being his grandparents and the other two being a couple of Indian ancestry who were actually from South Carolina).  Aside from them and Lance’s family, everyone else in their town was, in Lance’s words “of the Wonderbread variety”, and Keith was intrigued by the sight of such diversity on campus and the sound of people chattering in a wide variety of languages and accents.  

“I love college.”  Keith said, grinning broadly.  Lance nodded.

“This is pretty great.”  He spotted a row of tables set up outside the student center.  One of the tables in particular caught his eye.  “Oh my god, puppies!”  He took off, dragging Keith along by the hand.  It turned out that it was a student involvement fair where clubs were advertising themselves to potential new members, and the table Lance had spotted was a program where members could help train service dogs.  The puppies in question had their vests off to lure people to the club’s table with pets, but the club president demonstrated how they were being trained in the service dog commands and explained that the dogs could often be seen accompanying their trainers to classes and learning how to assist people.  After Lance had gotten his fill of puppy cuddles, they continued down the row of tables, and Keith barely had a moment to wonder what on earth the underwater basket-weaving club was about when Lance was dragging him off again, this time to a table decked out in rainbow flags.

“Man is it good to see one of these clubs again,” Lance told the guy who handed him a flyer for the university’s LGBTQIA club.  “Our high school didn’t have anything like this, but my school in Miami did.”  

“What do you do at this club?”  Keith asked.  

“We mostly just serve as a resource center with information for people,” the club president explained.  “We’ve always got someone around our office in the student center if people need to talk to someone or just need a safe space to chill in for a while.  We also hold bi-monthly film nights -- pun fully intended -- and game nights, just for fun.”  

“Resources, huh?”  Keith eyed a pamphlet that read ‘ _ what is gender? _ ’  “Could’ve used that a few years ago.”  He had gotten all his information from the internet, after his grandmother berated him saying “ _ if you keep dressing like that, people are going to think you’re a tranny _ …”  Not knowing what the word meant, he turned to the internet, which prompted an identity crisis for a few months before he stumbled upon some better resources that said what he felt was actually okay.  It had worked out in the end, but he would have liked to have had that reassurance in the beginning of his search.  

“It’s never too late,” the guy said, handing him the pamphlet he was looking at.  Keith smiled and accepted it.  

About halfway down the row of tables, Keith spotted a familiar face browsing a flyer from the astronomy club table.  He cupped a hand around his mouth and called out, “hey, Takashi!”  

His cousin looked up, blinking in surprise, then smiled.  “Hey, Keith.  How was the trip down with Grandma and Grandpa?”

“I’m surprised I’m still alive.”  Keith groaned.  He turned to Lance.  “Lance, this is my cousin, Takashi.  Takashi, this is my boyfriend, Lance.”  

“Just Shiro is fine.”  Takashi smiled, shaking Lance’s hand.  “So you’re the boyfriend I’ve been hearing about?”  

“Hope it’s all good things.”  Lance chuckled.  

“Oh, the best.”  Takashi waggled his eyebrows at Keith, who growled and lifted his foot to lightly kick him in the knee.  

“So are you thinking of joining the astronomy club?”  Keith asked.

Takashi shrugged.  “Maybe.  I signed up for an astronomy course on a whim, because it looked interesting, but I don’t know much about it.”  

“Really?  Which astronomy class?”  Keith asked.  

“The one with Dr. Coran, on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.”  

“Huh, that’s crazy.”  Keith said.  “We’re both in that one.”  He said, nudging Lance’s shoulder.  

“Nice,” Takashi smiled.  “Hopefully it’ll be fun.”  He checked his watch.  “I’m going to head back to my dorm; my roommate should be moving in soon.”  He waved.  “See you guys later!”  

The two of them continued on their way, getting lost only once before locating the dining hall.  There was a huge variety of foods available, since it was buffet-style, and once they used a meal swipe on their ID cards, they were able to go back for as many servings as they wanted.  

They spent a couple hours there, just leisurely eating and people-watching the other students, then the marching band students came in from practice and they decided to give up their table to a group of tired-looking trombone players who were sunburnt and seemed eager to put their instruments down.  After they left the dining hall, they wandered around campus a little bit more as they made their way to Kerberos hall, where Lance introduced him to his roommate, a friendly guy named Hunk who had a sunny smile and a warm personality.  

“Lance mentioned his boyfriend might want to sleep over sometimes.”  Hunk said.  “That’s totally fine with me.  Just, uh, if you guys ever want to, you know, do something other than sleep, just let me know in advance, and I’ll stay out of your hair.”  

It took Keith a moment to realize what he was getting at, then he buried his red face in his hands with a groan.  Lance just grinned and tapped Keith’s butt on his way to unpack some more clothes into his closet.  Hunk chuckled at them and went back to unpacking his own bag.  

“Hey, babe, did you text your RA?”  Lance asked, hanging up a jacket in the closet.  

“Not yet.”  Keith dug his phone out of his pocket and laid on his stomach on Lance’s bed while he typed in Allura’s number from the flyer she had given him.  

“Remember, that thing needs to get worked out before tonight, so you can figure out where you’re sleeping tonight.”  Lance said.  “You’ll need time to grab a bag with stuff to stay the night here if the meeting goes south.”  

“I hope it doesn’t come to that.”  Keith sighed.  He noticed Hunk eyeing them curiously.  “I didn’t have a great first meeting with my roommate.”  He said in explanation.

“Keith’s roommate is an asshat.”  Lance piped up.  

“Ouch.  That sucks.”  Hunk said.  “Yeah, you’re definitely welcome to crash anytime here, I don’t mind.  Hope you guys can get it worked out, though.”  

Keith sent a message to Allura and rubbed his thumb over the back of his phone thoughtfully.  He could tell that Lance had been intentionally vague when bringing up his roommate.  “Did Lance tell you… about me?”  He asked.  

“A bit.”  Hunk said.  “Just that you’re the hottest guy he’s ever seen but you’re also a total nerd, which he loves.  Oh and apparently we’re in the same astronomy class -- I’m taking that one too.  And that you like alien movies.  Which, by the way, I am going to ask forewarning if you guys watch an alien movie in here because I do kind of get scared easily, sorry.  Just let me know and I’ll put some headphones on or something.”

“Noted.”  Keith said.  “But he didn’t say anything about… me being trans?”  

Hunk paused in the middle of folding a shirt for just a moment before resuming.  “No, he didn’t.”  

Lance was frozen with one hand in his suitcase, watching carefully for a reaction.  “It wasn’t my secret to tell.”  He said.

“I get it.”  Keith reassured him.  He looked at Hunk again.  “Does that… change anything?”  

Hunk looked up, a bit confused.  “You mean about you being welcome to spend the night?  No, of course not. That’s totally fine.”

“You’re sure?”  Keith asked.  

“I mean, I don’t have a lot of experience with that sort of thing.”  Hunk admitted.  “But people are people.”  

Keith smiled, relieved.  

For the next few hours, the three of them chatted idly while Lance and Hunk unpacked and set up their room.  After Keith tossed Lance’s socks into a drawer haphazardly instead of organizing them by color, Lance banned him from helping, so Keith just lounged on Lance’s bed and fiddled around with a beat-up soccer ball that Lance had insisted on bringing to college.  He tried to spin it on his finger, then got bored and flopped onto his back, tossing the ball into the air and catching it.  

“When is your meeting with you RA?”  Lance asked.  

“Five-thirty.”  Keith stretched his legs up at a right angle and balanced the ball on the flats of his feet.  

“Want to get dinner afterwards?”  Lance asked, climbing up on his desk chair to shove his empty suitcase in the top of the closet.  

“Sure.”  Keith shifted the ball from foot to foot.  “We can check out the other dining hall, the one that’s on North Campus.”  

“Babe, if you keep wiggling your butt like that, I’m gonna smack it.”  Lance chuckled.  Keith looked at him around his legs, then bent his legs before pushing away, sending the soccer ball flying right at him.  Lance let out a yelp and ducked, and the ball bounced off the wall behind him.  He shot Keith a reproachful look as he snatched up the ball.  “I’m confiscating this.” 

~~~~~

The meeting with Allura and his roommate took a lot longer than Keith thought it would, nearly two hours.  It hadn’t been easy, and Keith didn’t think he could have gotten through it without Allura there to mediate.  She reprimanded Cathryn whenever she used inappropriate language or started to raise her voice too loud, and she made sure that both of them were able to speak their mind in a respectful manner.  

Once they got a lot of assumptions out of the way -- no, Keith wasn’t into girls and would certainly not hit on her, yes him liking guys made him gay not straight, please don’t use the term transexual, no, he didn’t practice witchcraft (he had no idea where she pulled that one out of) and no, he didn’t do drag shows -- they were able to at least come to an understanding with each other.  

“Alright, fine.  Whatever.  You do you, I guess.”  Cathryn said finally.  She didn’t look like she was entirely fine with it, but it was an improvement from the tone she had taken earlier, so Keith would take it.  

Allura smiled.  “Good.  I’m glad that we could get this worked out.”  She took out a form and some pens.  “Now, we do still need to talk about the roommate agreement rules.  Usually we do this with everyone sometime within the first week, but while I have you both here, let’s just do it now.  Anything either of you would like to make a rule?”  

“If you eat in the room, you have to clean it up.”  Cathryn said.  “I am so not dealing with mice.”  

“Agreed.”  Keith said.  That was easy enough.

“And no lavender-scented sprays or scented stuff.  I’m allergic to a chemical in it.”  She added.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”  He didn’t think he had anything lavender-scented, but he would remember that when he went shopping for cleaning products.  

“And no boys in the room.”  She said.  Keith and Allura exchanged a look.

“Cathryn…”  Allura said patiently.  “Keith is a boy.”  

She rolled her eyes.  “I meant no real boys.”  

Allura sighed and Keith dropped his head into his hands.  “Did you not pay attention to the conversation for the past hour and a half?”  Keith muttered.

“Oh my god, fine,” she said.  “No people with dicks in the room, okay?  Is that specific enough?” 

“Is that something you can agree to, Keith?”  Allura asked.  

“Sure.”  Keith said flatly.  He was starting to get a headache from this and he was just ready to be done.  He doubted he and Lance would be hanging out there a lot, anyway.  

Allura added  _ no people who have a penis in the room unless otherwise agreed upon _ to the list in her neat cursive handwriting.

“Are you seriously writing it that way?”  Cathryn asked.  “Just say ‘males’ for goodness sake.”  

“Gender is a social construct.”  Allura said simply.  

“Biological sex isn’t!”  

“It is, actually.”  Allura pointed the pen at her sternly.  “I’m a bio major with a minor in gender studies; do not test me, or I’ll make you read my thesis paper.”

Cathryn crossed her arms and said nothing.  

“Anything else?”  Allura smiled at the two of them.  

“Just keep your side of the room clean.”  Cathryn bit out.

“Got it.”  Keith nodded.  Easy enough to do.  They both signed the roommate agreement and Allura reminded them that if a conflict ever came up again, they could always come to her.  The two of them didn’t speak on their way back to the room.  Cathryn dropped moodily into her desk chair and immediately started texting.  Keith really hoped she wasn’t badmouthing him to someone, but didn’t really have a way to stop her.  He called Lance as he got his backpack out and started tossing clothes into it.  

“Hey, sorry that took so long,” he said when Lance picked up.  “You eat yet?”

“Nope.”  Lance said.  “How’d it go?”  

Keith shrugged.  “Fine.”  He didn’t want to talk about it now, with her listening.  “Mind if I sleep over tonight?”

“Oof, so not good?”  Lance asked.  

“No, it’s more that I’m away from my grandparents and they can’t tell me what to do anymore.”  Keith said.  If he wanted to cuddle with his boyfriend all night, there was nothing stopping him now.  

“Mm, gotcha.  Yeah, that’s fine.”  

“Is Hunk okay with it?”  Keith asked, shoving his phone charger in the backpack and zipping it up.  He heard Lance take his mouth away from the phone and ask Hunk the question, but he couldn’t make out the quiet response from across the room.

“Yeah, he’s cool with it.”  Lance relayed.  

“Sweet.”  He shouldered his backpack on and shifted the phone to his other hand.  “I’ll meet you outside Kerberos and we can walk to the dining hall.”

“Sounds good.”  Lance said.  “Just gotta find where I put my shoes…”  

Keith laughed.  “They’re under your bed, you ding-dong.  In your fancy shoe organizer you insisted on bringing.”  

“Oh, right!”  Lance said.  “Okay, see you in a few!”  

Keith chuckled as he grabbed his room key and student ID from where they sat on his desk and headed for the door.  

“See you,” he said to Cathryn, trying to be polite.  She didn’t say anything, and he wasn’t really surprised.  This would be a very long semester, but at least he would have Lance to help him get through it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah let it be known if you: accuse me of being a witch for doing my Japanese homework, leave passive-aggressive messages on your whiteboard directed at me, intentionally wake me up at three in the morning vacuuming because you saw me eating in the room, constantly vague about me on your twitter, talk about me on the phone to people WHILE I’M SITTING IN THE ROOM WITH YOU, drive me out of the room and make me stay on a friend’s couch, and are just generally a bitch to me and make living in my own dorm room hell for an entire semester, there’s a chance you could end up being used as inspiration for an antagonist in one of my fics. #sorrynotsorry. *shrugs* I hope your cookies burn, bitch. 
> 
> Like damn, thank god I didn’t realize I was trans back when I lived in that situation or I don’t even know what would have happened. Good thing Keith has Allura in this, because *MY* RA certainly didn’t side with me.
> 
> Anyhoo, this is the end of the klance sidestory/prequel thing. If you happened to find it without reading Twelve Nights, go check that one out for considerably less angst and a lot more comedy. Thank you so much for all the kudos and comments, and I hope you guys liked it!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please let me know if you enjoyed it!


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